Deathly Love
by Dolphingirl32173
Summary: When Elena, a medium who has trouble telling the living from the dead, moves to Mystic Falls, she is less than pleased to find her new house is haunted by the previous owner, a ghostly vampire whose ego matches his looks. What will happen when she finds herself falling for this mysterious ghost? And how far will she go to finally be with him? Damon/Elena
1. Medium Meets Ghost

Deathly Love  
DG32173

Sarah: I do so hope you enjoy. This was supposed to come out in October 2014 for Halloween but a variety of personal reasons have delayed the posting of this first chapter.

_**CREDIT**_  
Credit goes to my former beta for his help coming up with the plotline. Thanks, Cameron. Credit goes to my current beta for helping me make my writing the best it can be. Thanks, _crzykittyfangirl._

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
Unless I put a credit section like the above giving credit to whoever gave me the idea or claiming ownership of a concept, you can be assured that it is most likely copyrighted to someone with a bigger bank account than mine.

_**WARNINGS**_  
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! Rated M for more than just my sanity. Alternating viewpoints between Damon and Elena. Starts with Damon.

_**SUMMARY**_  
When Elena, a medium who has trouble telling the living from the dead, moves to Mystic Falls, she is less than pleased to find her new house is haunted by the previous owner, a ghostly vampire whose ego matches his looks. What will happen when she finds herself falling for this mysterious ghost? And how far will she go to finally be with him? _**Damon/Elena**_

* * *

Chapter 1  
Medium Meets Ghost

You know, I always thought I'd go out with a bang, or at least with a bit of flair. I never thought I'd meet Death on a complete _fluke._ Because that is sure as hell how it happened and I am _still_ pissed about it.

I was drunk and fighting with my brother. Nothing unusual there. I don't know what happened to cause me to lose my balance on the stairs but the next thing I knew I was falling backwards. I remember the sound of wood breaking and feeling something pierce through my leather jacket into my back. No harm done, though. I would have gotten it out when I landed. Fate had other plans. I landed on the first floor, landing on that something in my back. It shoved deeper into me, piercing my heart. And it proved to be made of wood. And wood of course, is fatal to vampires which I had been since the 1800s.

Now I'm a ghost, stuck haunting the home I built for my brother and myself. It's been about forty years since I died and today the ownership of the Salvatore Boarding House is changing hands. Apparently my brother can no longer tolerate keeping the deed of a property that was home to us far longer than the home we were born in.

I watch him as he paces back and forth, glancing at his watch every so often. Apparently the new owner of both the boarding house and _my car_ – thanks ever so much, brother – is late. That or Stefan's impatient. Could be both.

It took twenty-three years, five months, three weeks, two days, twelve hours, thirty-seven minutes, and forty-five seconds for me to give up trying to communicate with my brother. Strange how now that I'm truly dead I have a better grasp of time than when I was merely undead.

I frown when I hear bicycle wheels turn on the long drive from the road to the boarding house. None of my senses have lessened in the transition from vampire to ghost. And unfortunately, I am completely unable to step a ghostly _toe_ outside of the boarding house. Oh, I can probably go for a ride in my car with the new owner, but that's probably the furthest I can get.

A firm knock comes at the door soon after. Stefan surges to the door to open it. I stand beside him, crossing my arms as I examine the girl. "Sorry I'm late," the young beauty says. "I got all turned around and had to ask for directions from the mailman of all people."

"It's quite alright," Stefan assures her. "Please, come in," he continues, stepping back and holding the door for her.

I'm crowding the opening, examining her minutely. She frowns thoughtfully at me. "I thought you said that you live alone," she tells my brother.

"I do," Stefan says, frowning.

"Oh-ho! So you can actually _see_ me?" I gloat. Things are actually looking up.

Chagrin covers her features. She whirls on Stefan. "I thought I made it perfectly clear I wasn't interested in haunted houses," she says.

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

"Look, I don't know if you're a believer in spirits or not, nor do I care. I'm a medium," the girl says. "There happens to be a blue-eyed guy standing right _there,"_ she says, pointing at me. "And since you obviously can't see him, that means he's a ghost. I'd _really_ rather not move from one haunted house to another."

Stefan looks bewildered. "What did you say he looks like?" he asks uneasily.

The girl groans before turning on me. I wink at her as she examines me. "He stands about five foot nine, has short black hair and ice blue eyes. And he's _very_ flirtatious."

"Tell my brother I said 'hi'," I tell her.

"He refers to you as his brother and says to tell you hi," she says, turning back to Stefan.

Stefan's staring in my general direction, general seeing as he can't see me. "Damon?" he breathes. He shakes his head. "No, that's not possible," he says. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"I envy you for your ability to disbelieve," she says sincerely. She sighs. "Well, I'm not going to argue my case. And, seeing as I just finished signing over my old place and I've already paid for this place and that Camaro you told me about, I might as well sign the deeds. But first I want to lay eyes on that car. If there's not _really_ a 1969 Chevy Camaro convertible in the deal, I'm demanding an immediate refund."

"Oh, it's there, sweetheart," I assure her. "It _was_ mine."

She pretends to ignore me but the way she clenches her jaw tells me she's not happy about it. "Well?" she asks my brother.

"The Camaro is in the garage," he assures her. "Right this way."

I fall into step next to her as she follows my brother. "Do tell me I'm not imagining this," I beg of her. "You really do see me, right?"

She gives a very slight nod but doesn't answer. Stefan opens the door leading into the garage and flicks on the light. He motions to the tarp covering my car. The young woman purses her lips but walks forward and carefully peels back the tarp to reveal my pride and joy. Her eyes light up in wonder and a broad smile lights up her face. "She's beautiful," she breathes, delicately stroking the hood. "Okay, I'm sold on the car. Might as well get the house, even if it does come with a ghost."

"Gee, thanks, so nice to feel wanted," I say sarcastically.

"Here are the deeds," Stefan says, stepping forward with the papers. "You just need to sign them and the house and the car will belong to you."

The girl pulls a pen out of her purse and signs her name on the deeds for both the house and my car. "Okay," she says. "Anything else?"

"That should be everything. Everything in the house is now yours, including the Camaro," Stefan says. "Are you going to be needing help transferring your belongings here?"

"Nah, just got a knapsack and my bike," she says, waving her hand. "Both are out front."

"That's all?" Stefan asks, frowning.

"I tend not to put much emphasis on material belongings, except my laptop," she says. "I'm going to get my knapsack and bring my bike in here. C'mon, I'll walk you out."

I follow behind as the girl walks Stefan out. I _try_ to walk out of the house but yet again run into the barrier that has me stuck in here. So I can only watch from the door as my new housemate grabs her twelve-speed mountain bike from the yard and raises the kickstand. Stefan doesn't bother making small talk. He just climbs into his Porsche and leaves.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing?" I demand of the girl as she starts bringing her bike inside.

"I'm bringing my bike into my new house," she replies.

"Do you realize how much this hardwood cost me?"

"Why do you care? You're _dead,"_ she snaps.

I'm beyond surprised when she manages to actually shove me aside so she can bring her bike in. "Okay, you just _touched_ me," I say. "Everyone else just walks _through_ me. What is going on here?"

She shuts the front door and locks it. She then unhitches her knapsack from behind the seat on her bike. "It's my special brand of being a medium," she mutters. "I can interact with ghosts as if they were still in the life-state they were in at the time of death. As such, I often find it very difficult to tell the difference between the living and the dead. At least until I start getting odd looks from the living and the dead start acting overjoyed at finally being seen again." She turns to me. "I saw how you couldn't pass over the threshold to leave this place. That can be because of numerous reasons. My guess, though, is that not only was this the only place you've ever felt at home, but you also met your death here."

"And how do you know _that?"_ I ask. "And since we're going to be roomies now, mind telling me your name?"

"My name is Elena Gilbert," she says, shouldering her knapsack and making her way towards the stairs. "I've been seeing and interacting with ghosts from infancy. According to my mom, I had ghosts for nannies and babysitters. I even had a ghost dog. Mom made me help him move on after a couple of months, though. I guess she wasn't very happy to find her slippers chewed up by what was obviously a dog when we _technically_ didn't own a dog."

"Move on?" I ask, following her up the stairs.

"After you die, you're given various options. Most of the time, it requires a medium to help a ghost know what options are available to them and achieve the best option. Skylark wasn't very happy about leaving me. From what I could understand, his master hadn't moved on yet. Even now, he keeps coming back from time to time and I keep having to sending him to the light again." She stops at the landing and turns to me. "Where's the best bedroom?" she asks.

"That would be my old room," I reply. I dodge around her and lead her down my wing. "And did you say the ghost dog that keeps coming back to you is named _Skylark?"_

"Lemme guess, you had a dog named Skylark," she asks from behind me.

I stop outside the doors to my room. "Actually, I did. I was very young when I had him. He was killed by wolves shortly after Stefan was born," I reply. "And right through that door is the master bedroom suite."

She opens the door and steps in. She wrinkles her nose. "Does your brother never dust?" she demands.

"Not much," I admit, following her in. "And he hasn't been in here since just after my death."

"Can you remember much about your death?" she asks curiously, setting her knapsack down just inside the door. She proceeds to start stripping the furnishings of their protective blankets.

"Why do you ask?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Not many ghosts can remember their deaths, particularly if it was sudden or traumatic," she says, carefully pulling the blanket off the mirror.

"Well, my death was sudden and I remember _most_ of it," I reply.

"Most?" she asks, turning to me.

"I was fighting with my brother, like we always did. I know that I fell and broke through the banister on the stairwell. A bit of wood from the railing pierced through my jacket into my heart. What I _don't_ remember is how I _started_ that fall," I tell her.

"Could your brother have pushed you?" she asks.

I glare at her. "What are you suggesting?" I demand icily.

"In my experience, when guys fight, they tend to push and shove. I'm not saying he would have _intentionally_ caused your death. My guess is that you two were fighting, shoving each other around, and you lost your balance after he pushed you."

"Not possible," I refute.

She sighs. _"Anyone_ can lose their balance. I'm a medium. Humans and animals aren't the only ghosts I've worked with. Vampires, witches, werewolves, even other kinds of supernatural entities that have died. There's always a chance for that complete fluke that ends everything," she says, pulling the sheet off the bed. "You have a nice room, Damon."

"I wouldn't visit Stefan's room if I were you. I wasn't really paying attention enough to see if he had taken all his stuff before signing the place over," I tell her.

She shrugs. "He said something about having to pick up some stuff at a future date," she replies. She goes over to her knapsack and opens it. After rifling through her clothes, she pulls out a small laptop and a charging cord. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some research I have to do for my next book," she says. She plugs in the charging cord behind the nightstand, attaches it to her laptop, and sits on my bed.

"Your next book?" I ask dubiously.

"I'm a writer," she says, flipping open her laptop and powering it up. "I've got a few books published, which is how I was able to afford this place."

"And what do you write?" I ask.

"Primarily paranormal romance," she says. "But I'm doing a bit of research for this next one."

"Paranormal romance?" I ask sceptically. "You're a medium and you write about ghosts?"

"So long as my publishers and readers think it's all make-believe, all's good. I've got copies of my three previous books in my knapsack, if you want to read them."

I walk over and dig out the three books she was talking about. "So what are they about?"

"They're part of an ongoing series about a young medium that has the same god-awful luck as me and usually can't tell the dead from the living. In the first three books, she had three different boyfriends because each time her ability to mingle with the dead was found out, she was quite cruelly dumped for a more 'normal' girl. Interestingly enough, Ella Jane, my heroine, has a life quite similar to mine. I'm _trying_ to start work on the fourth book but I'm having a good deal of trouble with inspiration."

"You have three ex's?" I ask.

"One," she corrects. "To be fair, he _tried_ to deal with the whole ghost thing. But Skylark does _not_ like him. After the third attack by a ghost dog, Matt gave up. To be fair to Skylark, the poor ghost dog doesn't like _any_ guy trying to flirt with me. And if it's not Skylark running the guys off, it's my very odd tendency to talk to people no one else sees that makes them back off. If it weren't for my looks, I'd have been cast in among the loser crowd in school."

"Being a medium must be harsh," I comment, leafing through the first book.

"It does have its perks, though," she admits with a wry grin. "Such as the time some serial rapist targeted me. By the time Skylark got through with him, he was clutching the arm of some poor policewoman babbling about every sin he'd committed since birth and begging her to save him from me. The poor cop arrested him but told me that he's probably going to some insane asylum rather than jail. I kept my mouth shut."

"When was the last time you saw Skylark?" I ask curiously.

"After the last time Skylark made his way back to this plane of existence, which was three years ago, I chose to let him stay where he was happiest. I mean, it's not like I have to pick up after him or feed him or anything. He comes and goes when he chooses. Last I saw him was two days ago when he ran off some guy that wouldn't get the hint that I wasn't interested," she says, shrugging. "He always returns, usually in time to save me from some threat or other. I'm not really worried. He's a ghost, after all. If it's bad enough to take out a ghost, _I_ don't want to face it. He never really leaves me alone for more than a few days at a time anyways. I think he's trying to locate his master when he's out and about."

As she talks, she's typing away at the keyboard on her laptop. I peer over her shoulder to see what she's doing. "Is that a forum for _real_ mediums?" I ask, frowning.

"Most of the members are just fans or con artists but there are a few who, like me, are the real deal. We try to keep the fact that we really _do_ see ghosts under wraps. You will _not_ believe how many times I've been asked to perform a séance once it became known that I can see ghosts," she replies.

"Have you?" I ask.

"Have I what?" she asks.

"Don't play stupid. Have you ever performed a séance?" I ask.

"I prefer to let the ghosts come to me on their own rather than summoning them. Sometimes a séance will call more than the participants had bargained for and it's never easy to convince the less-than-friendly arrivals to vacate. Not to mention that sometimes when I touch a ghost, the living people around me can see a translucent form of that ghost. That particular ability is as random as it is annoying. A witch once told me that I _might_ be able to pull a ghost from death to life if I mastered my powers and the conditions were right."

"What do you mean by 'if the conditions were right'?" I ask.

"Well, for one, the ghost would have to have met their final death prematurely. For another, I'd have to have something that once belonged to the ghost and there would have to still be a strong bond between the ghost and that possession. And there are a bunch of other details I don't feel like getting into because I have never had a strong enough reason to tap into the full force of my powers. And I've never met a ghost who I felt was worth risking the side-effects of such a feat."

"How do you meet death prematurely?" I ask. "And what are these side-effects?"

"Basically, everyone has a day they are set to die. But sometimes a complete fluke makes them die before their time," she replies. "Once I've discovered I'm conversing with a ghost, I have always been able to tell if their death was premature or not. There aren't very many ghosts out there who've suffered a premature death. Fewer still have even considered trying to come back to life. As for the side-effects of bringing a ghost to life … well, they're not pretty. On a different note, however, I _might_ be able to extend the range of where you can go so you can at least get out of this dreary old house. It must suck having been trapped in here for years on years."

"You can bet on it," I agree. "How far do you think you can extend my range?"

"I _might_ be able to get you full access of the entire property. But I'm not sure. And you can leave the property entirely via the Camaro but you can't get very far from the Camaro once you're off this property."

"And why are you helping me?" I ask. Surely she must have _some_ agenda behind all this.

"You're a ghost, I'm a medium. Helping ghosts is what I was born to do," she replies. "Besides, I figure that if I can extend your range so you can go outside, you might actually spend time out there after all these years cooped up in here. And I can work on my book without a ghost hovering over me day and night."

"Aww, and here I was hoping you liked me," I tease.

"I don't even _know_ you," she points out.

"And you'll have _plenty_ of time to get to know me," I point out. "Ever had sex with a ghost?"

"Nope, and I'm not about to start," she says firmly.

"Aw, c'mon, surely you've wondered what it was like," I wheedle. "Is it _because_ I'm a ghost?"

"Look, even if you were still among the ranks of the living, you'd _still_ get 'no' for an answer. I'm not looking to change my status as a virgin any time soon. _Particularly_ not with some flirtatious ghost who's just looking to get laid for the first time since he died."

I roll my eyes but I'm not about to push the subject and risk having her refuse to try to extend the range of where I can go. "So, about extending my range?" I ask.

She puts her laptop to the side and goes to her knapsack. After digging to the very bottom of it, she pulls out a collection of five white candles that look like they've been used many times before and are almost spent, a red candle that looks like it's barely been used, a box of chalk, and a matchbook. I take that to mean she will try to extend my range so I can go outside.

She goes to the relatively clear area in front of the fireplace and sets candles and matchbook to the side before marking down what looks like a witch's pentagram with white chalk. Once that's done, she places a white candle at each point where the star meets the circle and lights them. Then she carefully makes her way to the center of the pentagram with the red candle, which she had also lit before shaking out the match. she stands in the very center of the pentagram, the red candle in her hand. "Okay, Damon, come stand before me and place your right hand over mine holding the candle," she says.

I raise an eyebrow but obey. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were about to cast a witch's spell," I remark.

"Mediums are just another, much rarer form of witch, to be honest," she replies, surprising me. "We just deal with ghosts on an almost daily basis while regular witches will be lucky if they deal with ghosts or even the spirits even _once_ in their lifetime. Most witches go their entire lives without dealing with those who have gone before us. Mediums are trained _very_ differently from normal witches, given knowledge and access to magic normally forbidden of mortals. And we are always trained by a spirit rather than a mortal witch. Like the spell I'm about to do. It's normally forbidden of mortals. But as a medium, I am _required_ to help any ghost I come across to the best of my abilities. And this spell will help you, which is why I was taught it. Now close your eyes and concentrate on being able to leave this big house and go outside, which should be your greatest desire right now."

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on what she asked of me while she casts the spell. But, strangely, the only thing I can concentrate on is her, on the desire that has been within me since I first saw her to _be_ with _her_ forever, no matter where she is. No matter how hard I try to drag my concentration to the task she had given me, I can't drag my mind off this other, even _greater_ desire that burns within me.

Suddenly, as I sense the spell nearing completion, I feel an almost imperceptible shift within me and I realize by her stumbling over her words she feels the same shift. I feel a deep-rooted sense of dread over what I fear my inability to get my mind off this strange new desire had done to us. But we both know once a witch starts casting a spell, she _must_ finish it, no matter what. So despite the deep-seated dread I suddenly sense within her, she finishes her spell.

Once she breathes out the last word and before I open my eyes, I feel a sharp stinging sensation in my cheek for the first time since my final death, telling me she had slapped me with all her strength. "Bastard!" she hisses. "You have no idea what you just did, do you?"

"Not really, no," I admit, opening my eyes and rubbing my cheek. As much as it hurts, it is good to finally _feel_ something physical again, even if it _is_ pain.

"Whatever you concentrated on, it _wasn't_ what I asked of you," she snaps. "Whatever you concentrated on caused the spell _not_ to release you to travel the grounds of the estate, but to be _bound_ to follow me, no matter where I go or what I do, for the rest of eternity, even after my death. Because whatever you concentrated on bound our _spirits_ together in a way that can never be broken. Now you're not trapped in this house. No. You and I are trapped in the same ten foot diameter of each other _forever._ Wherever I go, wherever my _spirit_ goes when I die, you will be forced to be no more than ten feet away from me at all times _for eternity._ Even if you somehow manage to regain your status as an undead vampire rather than a ghost, you will _still_ be trapped to going where I go. Because our _spirits_ are bound together. And if I die after such a thing happens, you will be _forced_ into death _again_ because of this, unless I was transitioning into vampirism."

I feel my eyes widen with horror as her words pour over me like a ton of bricks. What have I done?

* * *

Sarah: that last part was a twist I had not been planning but my muse had insisted on. Well, I like this twist so much because it adds so much that can be done with the storyline that I'm not going to argue with my muse. I rarely argue with my muse anyways. Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Effects of the Magical Bond

Deathly Love  
DG32173

Sarah: welcome to Chapter 2. Thankfully my muse is finally cooperating on getting chapters out for this old fanfic as I had wanted to see where my muse takes it for years now. Review replies then story. Chapter starts with Elena.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_Leann Nickerson:_ thanks for such a complimentary first review on a story I've been struggling with for nearly 5 years. Glad you enjoyed the first chapter so much. Here's more.

_Nymous44:_ glad you enjoyed it. Here's more.

_shnicky87:_ you're the only one to guess there would possibly be side-effects from the spell combined with what Damon was concentrating on. And you're right, there _will_ be side-effects; a few at first, but over time there will be more and more.

_Florayezi:_ glad you enjoyed. Here's the update.

_TVD-DELENA1786:_ yeah, good on my muse indeed. What an interesting plot twist she came up with.

_DevonnaDanielle:_ here, at last, is the update. I hope you enjoy.

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Chapter 2  
Effects of the Magical Bond

I growl as Damon peers over my shoulder as I'm working on my latest story. It's been a week since whatever he concentrated on during my spell bound his spirit to always be within ten feet of mine and he's not even kept _that_ much distance between us since he accepted the way things turned out, which was after only a few hours of repeatedly trying and failing to get farther from me than ten feet in _any_ direction.

After he accepted that he's bound to me, he decided that rather than keep the ten feet between us that we're allowed, he'd be as close to me as he can get when I'm not in the shower. The only reason he gives me even a semblance of privacy in the shower is because I used my powers as a medium to throw him out the shower that first night when he tried to get in with me.

But, over the past week, we've both noticed other odd things going on within us because of the spell. As I've _never_ had this result of that particular spell and Damon refuses to tell me precisely what he was thinking about during the spell, I've sent a magical message to my spirit mentor briefly explaining what's going on and that both I and the ghost have questions that need answering. I know that for the spirits, time passes differently than it does for mortals or even other ghosts.

Due to this, even though it's been three days since I contacted my mentor, I know it could be up to a month before I get a response, or even longer if I'm really unlucky and she has another medium she's training right now. I don't know if she'll just send me a magical message with a vague response, if she'll contact me in my dreams, or if she'll put in an actual appearance, though I haven't seen her since she said my training was through and I would have to learn what else I can do with my particular brand of being a medium on my own.

I sigh and glare over my shoulder. With every hour that passes, Damon _seems_ to become more and more 'alive' to me, though nobody else can even sense him. I don't know what _that's_ about but I'll ask my mentor when she gets in contact. "Do you _mind_ giving me a _little_ space?" I demand.

"I've already finished your other books; you're good and I want to know what happens next," he replies, amusement lacing his every word.

I scowl. "Well, tough luck, cause I have a hard enough time getting my muse to cooperate _without_ someone looking over my shoulder," I snap.

Before he can respond, we _both_ sense a shift in the ether within the house. "What was _that?"_ Damon demands.

"_That_ was a shift in the ether of the house, which means another ghost or spirit has arrived," I reply. I carefully send out a tendril of my power towards the shift and both Damon and I hear the overjoyed bark echo throughout the entire house followed by the clatter of claws on the wood stairs. I grin. "It's Skylark," I tell Damon.

The ghost of a border collie dashes into the room only to stop suddenly, staring in shock at the ghost beside me. The bark Skylark gives _this_ time before pouncing on Damon is so full of joy, I realize that _Damon_ is the one Skylark has been looking for all of these years, the beloved master he had been searching endlessly for.

"Skylark," Damon gasps in awe, hugging the ghost-dog.

I grin. 'At least something good came from moving here,' I think. The joy radiating off both ghosts at the reunion is enough to make my heart melt a little.

Before Damon and Skylark can _really_ get into their reunion, however, _another_ shift in the ether announces the arrival of yet another ghost or spirit. I frown my confusion and cautiously send out a tendril of my power towards the shift, both Damon and Skylark looking to me for answers of the reason behind _this_ shift. I relax when I encounter the familiar spirit's mind shrouded by a powerful veil. She acknowledges my contact but, as always, doesn't let me in. "It's my mentor. Apparently she decided our questions needed to be answered in person, so to speak," I tell them.

Skylark pants happily and wags his tail. I had known Skylark longer than I had known my mentor, because _she_ didn't come to me until I was sixteen and Skylark had come to me the first time shortly before my fourteenth birthday. Skylark _really_ likes my mentor, almost as much as he likes me.

Suddenly, the air shimmers at the foot of my bed and my mentor appears. Before I can greet her, Damon gasps. _"Emily?"_ he breathes.

"Hello again, Damon," the spirit witch greets.

I frown in confusion. "You two know each other?" I ask.

"Damon and I go back to the months before he became a vampire," Emily replies evenly. "The vampire I told you I had traveled with was his and Stefan's sire."

I file this tidbit away for later consideration. "I know you got my message, Emily, since you're here now. Is there any way to fix this mess we have found ourselves in?" I ask my mentor.

"That would depend entirely on _exactly_ what Damon had been concentrating on when you cast the spell," Emily replies.

I glance at Damon, who grimaces. "He hasn't been very forthcoming with that particular detail in the week since the spell was cast," I point out.

Emily meets Damon's eyes and I get the distinct sensation that they are having a conversation that I'm completely excluded from. It's over in only a couple minutes but it still feels wrong that Damon would confide in Emily when _I'm_ the one affected by the spell.

Emily sighs. "Given what Damon has told me, this is one spell with no known loophole," she says.

I grimace. "What about these side-effects I mentioned in my message?" I ask.

One of the side-effects of the spell, the most annoying, is that when I fall asleep, Damon is 'forced into a sleep state and we share some pretty erotic dreams that leave both of us pretty damn uncomfortable in the morning. Damon has repeatedly offered to take care of the problem we're left with after the dreams, but I keep refusing. We've only known each other a week. I had known Matt my whole life and I never gave into _him_ sexually when we were together. I'm not about to change my status as a virgin with a ghost I've only known a week.

"There are a few spells you can try to attempt to lessen the severity of the more problematic side-effects, but most of them you'll have to find a way to live with," Emily says. Be warned, though, given what Damon confided in me, there will likely be more side-effects cropping up than just the ones you told me about as time passes."

Both Damon and I grimace at this news. _More_ side-effects? "Why are these side-effects occurring? And why will _more_ appear?" I ask.

"Because Damon's wish while you cast the spell, Elena basically tied your spirits together in a way very similar to what happens when two vampires mark each other as eternal mates," Emily replies.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never have believed Damon could become any paler. But his reaction _actually_ drains _all_ color from his skin and for the first time in my life, I actually _see_ a ghost turn translucent to _me._

"Are you saying she's now my eternal mate?" Damon asks raggedly, slowly turning 'solid' once more.

"In some ways, yes, but in other ways, no," Emily replies.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Damon asks.

"With eternal mates as you know, Damon, _both_ parties must be willing to be bound together for eternity for it to be a successful mating. What happened here didn't need that requirement. In fact, neither of you had to want such a binding. But what you concentrated on while Elena cast the spell to give you your greatest desire at the time _forced_ a very similar binding on both of you for the rest of eternity.

"Unlike with an eternal mate bond, despite you being the 'older vampire' in this case, Damon, the way you _worded_ your thoughts as Elena cast the spell put _Elena_ in the role of 'leader' in this pairing and you as the 'follower', whether you like it or not. Also unlike eternal mates, who _can_ be in separate places for extended periods of time, you can _never_ again be more than ten feet from Elena's spirit, Damon.

"But like eternally mated vampires, you will both develop some new powers overtime that would be similar to those unique to a mated pair of vampires, _despite_ Elena not being a vampire. Also similar to eternally mated vampires, you will _both_ be driven to defend your bond from outsiders. Another similarity to eternally mated vampires is that the bond-breaker curse will affect any supernatural trying to interfere in the bond or do _anything_ to one of you the pair of you don't approve of."

I cast an annoyed look at Damon. So whatever he was thinking of while I cast my spell trapped me in a pseudo eternal mates bond with him despite _not_ having my permission? Great, just great. Due to my work as a medium, I have long ago learned the bare bones of what it means for vampires to be eternally mated. Now it seems I'm about to find out _all_ the details first-hand, whether I want to or not. At least _I'm_ the leader in this pairing. If Damon had been the leader, I doubt I'd be able to hold out against his will. Instead, _he_ has to hold out against _my_ will and wishes.

"Do either of you have any other questions?" Emily asks.

Damon and I exchange a look and shake our heads simultaneously. "Nothing at this time," I reply for both of us.

"Then I will teach you the spells that may lessen the intensity of the more problematic side-effects you two are experiencing," Emily says. It doesn't take very long for me to learn the spells and cast them. "Well, Elena, you know how to contact me if ever either of you think of any more questions. I had deemed this a serious enough situation to take a little time off training another medium and I need to return to him before he gets into mischief. Take care, you two,' she says.

With another shift of the ether, Emily disappears back to wherever she had been. As soon as she is gone, both Damon and Skylark crowd me on the bed. I roll my eyes. Since Skylark has found his master, I get the feeling he's not going to leave again, at least not for a while. "Do you _both_ have to crowd me this way?" I complain.

Damon twists a lock of my hair around his fingers, a move I repeatedly try to dissuade him from doing to no avail. "I'm _bored,_ Elena. All you've done _all_ day except Emily's visit was work on your next book. I've already finished the other three books and there's nothing to _do_ in here. Can't you at _least_ move to the library where I have access to more books?" he wheedles.

I sigh but have to admit there's not a lot Damon can do in here when he's stuck within ten feet of me at all times. "Fine," I mutter, noting my laptop is fully charged. I unplug my laptop and climb off the bed. I head downstairs to the library and take up position at the desk I had moved close to the shelves so Damon could reach most of them while I work.

Damon busies himself with finding books to read while Skylark takes up position in the cubbyhole under the desk at my feet. I dive back into my story, having recently gotten a sudden streak of inspiration that will move my series in a way that was totally unexpected before I came to live here in what will probably always be called the Salvatore Boarding House.

Ella Jane, at the start of this book, had decided to move out of the haunted house she had been living in and had inadvertently ended up in another haunted house, this one haunted by the ghost of a vampire. My heroine's life tends to follow my life rather closely, with a few notable changes. Ella Jane and the vampire ghost, who I called Darien, had ended up in a situation similar to what Damon and I had ended up in within the first couple of chapters.

I had just come to the part where Ella Jane had contacted her mentor for help when I had been interrupted earlier. Cracking my knuckles and my neck, I dive back in.

One thing I _am_ grateful to Damon for is he never lets me forget a meal, which is what usually happens when I get engrossed in my writing. A few hours later, I feel a tug on my hair and find Damon saying, "C'mon, Elena, dinnertime," in my ear. I glance at the clock and see it's nearly seven at night and that my laptop definitely needs recharging.

"How is it the ghost has a better sense of time than the living?" I ask rhetorically as I power down my laptop.

"No clue," Damon says with a shrug.

"That was a rhetorical question, Damon," I point out.

"Don't care," he says with a smirk.

I sigh and head into the kitchen to fix some leftover egg fried rice and a glass of sweet tea. Damon follows, carrying a small stack of books. I raise an eyebrow at the books. "What are those for?" I ask.

"In case you decide to coop us up in the bedroom again tomorrow. I don't want to get bored again," he retorts. I roll my eyes but don't comment. I decide not to mention that I plan on going into town tomorrow to pick up groceries and run a few errands. He'll find out tomorrow.

Later, after my nightly routine is complete and I've written in my journal, I decide to call it an early evening. I'd rather get my errands done in the morning when the stores are less likely to be crowded. As a medium, crowds of the living just aren't my scene. Besides, in a crowd, there's a greater chance of someone walking _through_ Damon before he can get out of the way.

I set my journal on the nightstand and turn out the light. Not long after I get comfortable on the bed, or as comfortable as I can get when sharing it with two ghosts, I fall asleep and am pulled into another erotic dream involving Damon.

_I'm running through the halls of my old high school, knowing he's behind me, steadily closing in. I'm not afraid, however. This is just one of many games we play. He's a vampire, after all. It excites him to 'hunt' me down and then 'punish' me. As a medium, I can cast spells to speed myself up to make the chase last longer, but he's always faster and inevitably catches me in the end._

_I turn a corner, the dim security lights barely lighting my path. Ahead I see the glowing exit sign and mutter a spell to give a slight increase to my speed. Maybe I can win this time!_

_But, no, he wraps his arms around me from behind with a low chuckle. "You can't escape me, Elena," he purrs in my ear before spinning me around and capturing my lips in a brutal kiss._

_I give in. He won again, as always. His reward is to do as he wishes to me, at least sexually. I'm shoved roughly against a nearby locker as he lifts me in his arms. Within moments, he has our jeans unfastened and my panties shoved to the side so he can prepare my core for his girth. It doesn't take him long to have me prepped._

_He nips at the juncture where my left shoulder meets my neck, his fangs brushing the pulse point there. In response, I tilt my head slightly the the right to give him better access. He growls his pleasure as he lines his dick up with my core and plunges in while sinking his fangs into my neck at his favorite place to feed from a mortal._

_I gasp my pleasure, which quickly turns into a purr of sexual ecstasy, when he begins pumping into me and hitting a particularly sensitive spot almost immediately. He's grown to be able to play my body like a virtuoso plays his chosen instrument in so short a time. We've only been together like this a short time yet it somehow feels as if I've known him my whole life._

_I had even faced the side-effects of bringing a ghost to life to be with him …_

With a gasp, I jerk awake, my body aching for a release that is not to come. Birds are chirping in the predawn light outside my eastern facing windows. I flop back in the bed with a groan, knowing I'm not going to get back to sleep, not with the way _that_ dream ended. In the week since these erotic dreams have started, that is the _first_ time my dream self had thoughts about the Damon in the dream formerly being a ghost.

When I first discovered the potential side-effects of bringing a ghost to life, I had sworn to myself that _only_ the most extreme set of circumstances would ever make me willing to face them. But my dream self had _willingly_ faced them for Damon. Was that a prophecy? I occasionally have prophetic dreams, since a medium is another kind of witch. Unfortunately, dreams are the only place where my prophecies appear and it's difficult to tell if it's a regular dream or a prophecy.

I sigh. I have too little to go on right now. There's no way to know for sure one way or the other. Not until the potential prophecy gets closer to passing.

"Couldn't you have at _least_ let us finish the dream?" Damon grumbles beside me, his face buried in the pillow next to mine and his words slightly muffled.

"Can't control when my body chooses to wake up," I tell him, not daring to mention the possible prophetic nature of the dream. "C'mon, we're getting up. I need breakfast."

Grumbling to himself about missing out on the finale of the dream, Damon reluctantly gets up and follows me to the kitchen.

* * *

Sarah: and that's it for Chapter 2. I had most of it already written up in a notebook for several weeks now, but I only just got around to copying it onto the document I saved this chapter in. Anyways, let me know what you think and what you'd like to see happen next. Do you guys want to see parts of the magical bond they're in play out more prominently or just as a vague thing overshadowing what goes on? Do you want to see Elena boss Damon around and the bond _force_ him to obey? Let me know in a review and I'll take it into consideration.


	3. Witchy Meet & Greet

Deathly Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's Chapter 3. Pretty much this entire chapter was written out in a notebook by the time I finished typing up the last chapter so hopefully I don't get distracted in typing it up. Review replies then the story. Please enjoy. The chapter starts in Damon's viewpoint.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_shnicky87:_ **(laughs)** glad I made your day. Elena won't think about using the bond against Damon for a few more chapters, but I am definitely considering what I should do to cause her to 'force' him to obey her. I hope you enjoy what I have in store for this chapter.

_TVD-DELENA1786:_ yeah, Elena won't be using the bond on him unless he gets out of hand but this is _Damon_ we're talking about here. He's bound to get out of hand at some point. And I agree, a more prominent bond would make for a better story.

_HoneySexy:_ I'm bored because I can't go for my typical three-mile walks whenever I want anymore, but doing fine otherwise. Thanks for the concern. And I personally think Elena would only use the bond on Damon if he gets out of hand, though I'm trying to think of a situation where she would consider him to be getting too out of hand at the time that would still be in character for him. She might make him do something silly to get revenge, however.

_MultiMom:_ I'm glad you are enjoying this. Here's more.

_Leann Nickerson:_ I'm getting all these votes for a bossy Elena and just one vote for her to be bossy only if he gets out of hand. Glad everyone seems to agree that the bond should be played out more prominently. I agree that vague overshadowing isn't always the best case, especially not here. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 3  
Witchy Meet & Greet

It's a good surprise to find out that Elena isn't a _complete_ homebody. In the three weeks since Emily came to answer our questions, she's gone out at least once a week to run errands and acquaint herself with the town. It's surprising to see _just_ how much Mystic Falls has changed since my final death. For a town big on traditions, it's grown and changed drastically in just forty years.

One thing that hasn't changed is that my favorite bar in town is _still_ the primary hangout and is _still_ run by the matriarch of the Fells, a tiny woman now in her late seventies who goes by the name "Mama Bear". The Mystic Grill, known to locals simply as The Grill, is _still_ one of the best places to get juicy gossip about town residents. And they _sill_ run the town betting board. Elena got a kick out of that.

Currently, Elena is on her way to finally introduce herself to an old friend of mine and her granddaughter, who are local witches descended from Emily. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to actually _meet_ Sheila's granddaughter because she was born nineteen years after I died and had never visited the boarding house. I only know about the granddaughter because every birth in this town is announced in the newspaper and the living side of the family had kept up a newspaper subscription until Stefan had finally kicked them out just before he sold the house to Elena.

I wonder if Sheila would be able to sense me. She's a witch and I _know_ witches can sense ghosts and spirits, even the ones who aren't mediums. I'll find out when we get there. As it is, the town has grown and changed so much that I can't direct Elena to Sheila's house; she has to use GPS, something that had come into existence since I died.

When we arrive, I can see that Sheila's home hasn't changed much in the years since I was last over this way. Elena takes a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had told me before we left the boarding house that few normal witches are tolerant of mediums because of the vast differences of what the spirits allow them to do. But whenever Elena moves to a new town and discovers there are witches already living there, she makes a point to introduce herself.

When Elena gets out of the Camaro, I ghost through the door and follow her up the porch stairs. Elena shudders slightly when I ghost through the door. She told me the first time I did it in her presence that it freaks her out more than most when a ghost does that because it's so difficult for her to tell the difference between ghosts and the living. So I've made it a point to do it as much as possible, just to tease her.

Elena rings the doorbell and we wait. It doesn't take long before Sheila answers the door, accompanied by her granddaughter. I'm momentarily startled by the remarkable resemblance between the granddaughter and her ancestor, Emily. Elena extends her hand to Sheila. "Hello, my name's Elena Gilbert. I'm a medium and I thought I'd introduce myself to you," she says softly.

Sheila takes Elena's hand. "Sheila Bennett. This is my granddaughter, Bonnie," she says. I feel a brief flare of magical power when Sheila and Elena shake hands, as if the two witches are showing the other how strong and experienced they are. The move is repeated when Bonnie and Elena shake hands, though Bonnie's eyes widen in surprise when she gets a sense of a medium's power and experience at about the same age as herself.

"I feel a familiar presence I haven't felt in forty years. Is Damon Salvatore's spirit accompanying you?" Sheila asks.

"He is," Elena replies. "It's a long story, but he's magically bound to a ten-foot radius around my spirit."

"Come in. This sounds like a magical mishap worth the telling," Sheila says, stepping back.

"I don't know the full details as he won't share _his_ part of it with me, but I _do_ know we've ended up with some pretty severe consequences," Elena says, following Sheila and Bonnie into the living room while I follow her. This is probably the only way I can get inside Sheila's house. Ghost vampires don't need an invite like undead vampires to enter occupied homes, I've discovered in the last few weeks. It takes time, but Elena shares the details she knows of our predicament. I _still_ refuse to confide in her _exactly_ what I was thinking about during the spell-casting.

"I thought that spell was strictly forbidden," Bonnie says in surprise when Elena names the spell she used.

"Mediums, because of our capacity working with ghosts and spirits, are allowed far more leniency on what spells we are allowed to cast, but we still have to follow a strict rule set of what we can and can't do. In fact, in many ways, we're under a far stricter set of rules than a normal witch or warlock _because_ of the leniency we're allowed in the spells we can use to help ghosts and spirits reach peace. We're actually trained by the spirit of a witch or warlock who's gone before and, from what I understand, go through a stricter training regime than normal witches that is vastly accelerated from the normal way of training. My mentor, who Damon tells me is an ancestor of yours, Emily Bennett, came to me when I was sixteen to start my official training and deemed my training complete shortly after my eighteenth birthday. It's been nearly three years since then."

After some more social niceties play out and Elena finishes telling the Bennett witches about the situation we've found ourselves in, Sheila turns in my general direction. "It grieved me when I found out about your death, Damon. You've been a great friend to our family from the day you were turned. But I have had a bit of hope to hold onto for the past ten years. I've foreseen the day you will return to the undead in my lifetime. That time is fast approaching, I can sense. But precisely when or how is beyond my ability to See."

Next to me, Elena stiffens slightly. I raise an eyebrow at her. Has she been hiding something from me? I know she has the power to bring ghosts to the state of being they were in before death. She told me so herself on the first day we met. Why would she stiffen in response to Sheila's prophecy, though? I'll have to confront her about her reaction later.

"Sheila, Bonnie, before I leave, I want to say thank you for being so accepting of me. Many normal witches and warlocks have been far less accommodating when they discovered I had moved to what they thought of as _their_ town. They don't really accept mediums as true witches and warlocks because of the extreme differences in our capabilities with magic."

Sheila chuckles. "They'll learn eventually that we all work towards the same goal: the balance of the natural and the supernatural. It may take until they're spirits themselves, but they'll learn. My own mentor was actually a medium," she replies. "She did the best she could to train me properly with the help of _her_ mentor in the proper training of a non-medium witch."

Elena chuckles. "That explains it. If ever either of you needs anything, I bought the Salvatore Boarding House and live there. Just let me know if you need my help with anything," she says.

"And you do the same, Elena," Sheila says.

As we're heading for the door, Bonnie catches up to us. "Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with my best friend and me sometime. I don't have a lot of friends in this town and you're so new I don't think you've had time to make many friends. We're about the same age. So I was hoping we could be friends," she says in a rush to Elena.

Elena hesitates briefly. "If you're sure you don't mind a ghostly tag-along on anything we do, I'd like that," she says slowly. "As I explained, Damon can't go more than ten feet from me in any direction. That will hold true even when your grandmother's prophecy for him comes to pass, as our spirits are magically bound together."

"So long as he doesn't try any spooky ghost tricks, I can accept him tagging along. I've experienced some of the things ghosts can do to make their presence felt," Bonnie replies.

"Oh? You've encountered ghosts before?" Elena asks.

"Yeah. There's this old house in the woods where supposedly a hundred witches and warlocks were burned at the stake on the property long before the house was built. Grams took me there during my lessons about the spirits. You can tell as soon as you set foot on the property that it's haunted by powerful entities. Maybe you could check it out, being a medium and all. Maybe you can help at least a few of them move on."

"Maybe," Elena says noncommittally. "I can only help a spirit move on if that's the right thing for _them,_ though. Not all spirits are meant to move on. Even with those that are, that particular option is only available to the spirit when it's their time to move on. Just because someone dies doesn't mean it was actually _time_ for them to die or that they will be allowed to move on immediately, even if it was."

"Oh," Bonnie says, surprised. "Anyways, of my few friends in town, only my best friend, Caroline Forbes, knows the truth about what I am. You can trust her with the fact that you're a medium. In the four years she's known my secret, she never once told anyone. Do you want to meet her tonight?"

"I can't tonight. I'm a writer and I have a deadline coming up on my latest book. I need to get some more work done on it tonight. How about Saturday? If I work hard, I can probably free up Saturday to hang out."

"Can we come over to your place? We've always wanted to see the inside of the Salvatore Boarding house but were always too nervous when it actually belonged to the Salvatores to go there," Bonnie asks. Then she seems to have what I call a light bulb moment. "Wait, you said you're a writer? You wouldn't by chance happen to use the penname E. Gilbert, would you?"

Elena grimaces. "Guilty. I did write the series _Tales of a Modern Medium,"_ she says.

"You wouldn't by chance be working on the fourth book would you? Do you base the stories on your own experiences? Did you get dumped three times because of being a medium?"

Elena grimaces at the rapid-fire interrogation. "In order, yes, I'm working on the next book. Ella Jane's experiences are _loosely_ based on my life. No, I've only had one boyfriend who tried to make it work with me but a ghost dog that got attached to me ruined the relationship in the end. Also, you and your friend can come over around ten Saturday morning. Skylark, the ghost dog I spoke of, might drop by to say 'hi' and you know Damon will be in attendance. So there will be at least one ghost, possibly two, around. Now I really should get going so I can get a few more chapters down if we want to hang out on Saturday."

"Okay, see you later. We're going to be great friends, the three of us. I can sense it," Bonnie says, wrapping Elena in a hug.

I chuckle at Elena's grimace. In the past month, I have learned she's not a big fan of being touched, even if it's just a ghost touching her. She's grown to tolerate me touching her whenever the mood strikes, but she's never the one to initiate it unless I'm in her way. She says she's been that way for a while, ever since an experience in her past she won't talk about occurred.

Elena reluctantly returns the hug before quickly extricating herself from the other witch's grasp. "See you Saturday," she says

"We'll be there at ten," Bonnie says.

When we're back in the Camaro, I chuckle again. "Sure you want to hang out with her and her friend?" I tease. "You're likely to have a lot of hugs in your future."

Elena scowls and puts the car in gear. "I'll just have to get used to it," she says, pulling out of Sheila's driveway and turning towards the boarding house. "I get the distinct feeling I'm destined to be friends with Bonnie and her friend Caroline. I got the weirdest sense that I had known her in another time, another place; one where we'd been friends all our lives though we had just met today."

"And they say ghosts are spooky," I say, shuddering. "You witches and your 'feelings' are the spooky ones." I decide to change the subject. "So, Miss Gilbert, care to share why Sheila's prophecy for me made you grimace?" I ask.

She's silent for a while, obviously having an internal debate with herself. If she chooses not to answer, I can't change her mind. She's the 'leader' in this bond, not me. I have no choice _but_ to abide by _her_ choices, whether I want to or not. Finally, she sighs. "I think the dreams we share are slightly prophetic," she finally admits.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Like a normal witch, mediums can have prophecies. Personally, my own prophecies come in dream form. I've yet to have a prophecy while I'm awake. For the past few weeks, I've been getting hints that the dreams we are sharing could be prophetic, but nothing that says for sure one way or the other. Then when Sheila spoke her prophecy today, I realized I _have_ been seeing glimpses of the future and dragging you with me on it. That's not to say the entirety of the dreams will come true, just that they are a foreshadowing of what's to come," she says. "I never dream _exactly_ what will happen when I have prophetic dreams, but they always line up similar to what they foretell."

I smirk. This means Elena will _definitely_ become my lover eventually. "So, what were the clues that they were prophetic dreams rather than normal erotic dreams?" I ask curiously.

"My thoughts towards the end of the dreams, for one thing," she replies, turning into the boarding house driveway. "For another, the act that they're so very vivid, as if they're actually occurring rather than having that dreamlike blurring of minor details. Third, remembering them completely clearly upon waking. These are the main things that pointed at them being prophecies rather than mere dreams."

"So…," I drawl, casting a victorious smirk at her. "Do we become lovers _before_ or _after_ I return from the dead?"

She blushes but doesn't so much as fumble as she unlocks the front door. "I don't know," she admits. "All the dreams have us as long-term lovers, but I've already brought you back to 'life', as it were. I don't know how long before the dreams take place that I performed the ritual."

"Not yet willing to act on the prophecy, huh?" I ask hopefully. She scowls at me. "Didn't think so," I sigh.

"You haven't won me over _just_ yet, Casanova," she says, heading into the kitchen while I focus to shut the door.

The only time I allow myself to interact with the physical world is within the privacy of the boarding house. It would be too freaky for the living to see me interacting with objects and _they_ can't see me. I follow her into the kitchen and watch as she fixes herself a grilled cheese sandwich and some Greek yogurt. I snatch a bite of her sandwich when she's done. Even though I'm a ghost and have no physical body, I can still eat food and taste it.

"Get your own," she grumbles.

"But yours is _so_ good," I retort.

"You just don't want to expend the energy it would take a ghost to fix food," she points out.

"True enough. There are better things to spend that energy on," I reply tugging gently on her hair as an example. I've learned over the years of being a ghost that every interaction with the physical world drains a bit of energy from me. There are ways to recover that energy, but I'd rather not spend energy when I don't have to. Being dead, I don't _need_ any form of nourishment, but still having a sense of taste makes me _want_ food or blood from time-to-time, just for the taste. I haven't had blood since the day I died, at least not outside of these dreams I've been sharing with Elena. But I have swiped bites of food from my living relatives' plates when they weren't paying attention. And I frequently swipe a bite of Elena's meals. She's a _much_ better cook than any of my living relatives ever were.

Take this grilled cheese, for example. My human relatives, even the supposedly 'creative' ones, only ever put a single slice of American cheese between two slices of white bread with margarine on the outside. _Elena's_ sandwich, on the other hand, has Texas Toast for the bread, _real_ butter on the outside, and _several_ types of cheese, none of which are American and _all_ of which are gotten from the deli. The varieties of cheese go surprisingly well together on a toasted sandwich. And that's _her_ idea of a 'simple' lunch.

The kitchen I had painstakingly designed hasn't been _this_ well-stocked since I was undead and staying here last. That was the first thing that made me glad Elena had been the one to by the boarding house. Make that the _second_ thing, since the _true_ first thing to make me glad she bought the boarding house was finding out she's a medium and can converse with me.

As Elena settles down to her writing, I decide to read a book I had gotten from the library. I've read _Call of the Wild_ many times since it was published and it's become my favorite book, though _Gone with the Wind_ is a close second. I might have a chance to get halfway through this book before I have to remind Elena to eat dinner. With this thought, I settle down with my book with the clacking of Elena typing on her keyboard as a background noise.

* * *

Sarah: and that was _much_ longer on paper but came out halfway decent typed up, which is unusual for me. Please review and tell me what you think.


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